Avenging Demons
by StrangeSpark
Summary: How far would you go to restore the honor of a fallen sibling or mate? How much farther would you go to save them if you found out they were alive? A group of humans are about to have those questions answered by four very strong, very deadly, and very pissed off brothers when they kidnap their sister, a human raised Yautja whose secret could rock both societies to their foundations
1. Chapter 1

**1987- West Bolivia**

She was pleased with herself. It wasn't the best hunt she had ever performed but it was fairly close. She reveled in her success as she hoisted the last of the three males into the tree where they would await her skinning knife. That done, she looked again at the last body, a female who had unfortunately stepped between her spear and one of the males. Through both the infrared and x-ray settings of her mask, she detected no fetal presence or other disability that would cause her to carry the dishonorable weight of this _ooman's_ death. So she simply allowed herself a moment of quiet regret before dragging the female's body over to the tree and hoisting it up beside her other trophies. Taking a step back she admired her work again then set to work with her paring knife.

Halfway through the skinning of the third male, a noise distracted her from her task. It was faint, barely louder than a bird's wing beats but it was still present and persistent. Taking no chances with her life, she immediately activated her camouflage, fading into the jungle night like the shadows that played around the edge of the fire. She followed the noise from the edge of the human's grouped dwellings to the innermost building, which had been partially destroyed at her hand. The noise grew louder as she moved through the dwelling. It was high-pitched and demanding and grated on her nerves but also reminded her of the sound her own newblood son made when he was hungry.

In the final room she searched, she found an overturned feeding trough filled with chicken down and covered with blankets to create some semblance of a cradle. On the other side the noise reached it's highest, and appeared to be emanating from a writhing scrap of cloth on the floor. Being as careful as she could, she lifted the cloth to reveal an _ooman_ newblood. The tiny thing felt the sudden cool rush of air as the cloth was lifted and stopped crying in confusion, then looked directly at her, as if it could see right through her camouflage. Deciding that something so small could not pose any real danger to her, she deactivated the cloak and continued examining the newblood, who appeared to be doing the same to her. At once it dawned on her; there had been no other females residing here, she had killed the only one who was most likely this newblood's mother. Her good mood from earlier was gone. She had just orphaned this child, and by the rules of her clan; she was now responsible for dispensing of it. She was suddenly very aware of the small, dark-skinned _ooman_ who had not let her out of her sight, regarding her with big, curious eyes. That struck her as odd. The child wasn't scared, but curious. Intrigued, she reached out her hand to the infant, who also reached out a chubby hand and wrapped her clawed finger in a tight fist. She noted that the child was admirably strong.

"_Gkuan-yte_, little fearless one." She greeted in her own clicking language, to which the child laughed and clapped its tiny hands together. She knew she wouldn't be able to end this infant's life even if she wanted to. She felt her maternal instincts flare up and knew exactly what she was to do with the infant who had now taken her finger in two hands and was attempting to eat the tip of her claw with only its gums. Making up her mind, she took the newblood in both hands and wrapped it in the cloth she found it in. Thinking for a moment, she checked and found the infant to be female. It wouldn't help her case but there was nothing anyone could do now.

Holding the tiny infant girl close to her chest, she returned to her trophies and fashioned a sling out of the female's clothing. She placed the girl in the sling and tied it around her torso so she was resting comfortably against her back while she resumed her skinning and collection of her trophies. When she was satisfied with her work, she activated the homing beacon on her wrist and settled into the trees with the girl to wait for the arrival of her mate and son. She entertained the young _ooman_ with strung-together vertebrae and skulls she had collected from countless worlds and countless hunts. The child was curious and excited by these toys and consistently took to gnawing on them. She was amusedly reminded of a female from her clan that used to tell stories of eating the bones of her kills. She had been a great hunter and highly respected among the elders of the clan. Her name had been Ky'kne. Peering at the tiny newblood she decided upon the name she was to receive.

"Ky'kne." She said, the _ooman_ newblood looked up at her, a smaller skull gripped between her hands. She saw a glimmer of recognition in the newblood's eyes before she went back to gumming her skull. Filled with pride, she said again. "Ky'kne will be your name, little fearless one. _N'jauka_."

**19 years later- Jena, Louisiana …**

The girl named Ky'kne ran through the forest, dodging trees with practiced ease. She felt more than heard her brother somewhere beside her, fleeing through the trees somewhat faster than herself on his thick, powerful legs. She mentally cursed herself for being so stupid as to not bring two wrist bombs. If only her brother had brought one since one of the_ ooman's_ well-aimed metal pellets had shot hers off. She continued to curse herself as more metal pellets ripped the bark off the nearby trees. Cold realization seeped into her muscles. They were very close to the ship and without a bomb to get rid of it and themselves. They would have to fly it out but they would be overrun before they took off. She growled to herself as she recalled that her brother was the only one tall enough to even fly the craft. She growled again to herself and stopped running but kept a relatively fast pace. She heard her brother's heavy, fast strides slow as well until they both stopped completely.

"Run, _mei-hswei_!" She roared at him, just a mere yellow blip on her infrared sight. "I will keep these _pyode amedha_ from following you." He seemed to not want to leave her but he knew as well as she did that they had no chance of both of them surviving. He approached her and placed a thick hand on her equally thick, armored shoulder.

"I will return, _mei-jadhi_. I will bring our brothers to avenge your sacrifice." She nodded and beat her chest with her fist and acknowledged as he did the same. Then they turned away from each other, he towards a tree that he promptly climbed and she back towards the _ooman_ hunters they had been evading. She quickly offered up a prayer to the gods that he made it. At least he could tell her mate that she died honorably.

This was her last thought before more _ooman_-made metal pellets tore through the air and one found the flesh of her calf, another bit into her arm. She immediately changed direction and began running parallel to the line of _ooman's_ armed with the strange pellet guns. She did everything she knew how to push the pain to the back of her mind the way she had been trained and for a while it worked until she felt the onslaught of blurring vision and light-headedness. She spared a glance over her shoulder and saw the trail of her strange, glowing orange-yellow blood. Now her pursuers had a clear trail to follow in the dark. Somehow it made her feel better that they would be following her and leaving her brother to get away. She stumbled in the leaves, spilling more blood. Pausing only a moment, she reached into the pouch at her hip and pulled out a syringe device loaded with clear liquid. Without hesitation, she stabbed the needle into her calf, above the wound and immediately felt the burning liquid eating through dead flesh and the metal of the pellet that had injured her. This time though the pain was too great and she cried out. Hesitating only a moment she repeated the process to her arm, which was only somewhat easier to bear.

In her dizzied, painful stupor, she had not heard her pursuers get so close to her. They heard her pained cry and began shooting again. However they had ceased to use the metal pellet guns, these were sharp and slightly resembled her syringe. One sunk into the bark of the tree she was using to right herself. She noticed they had very bad aim but she knew better than to think that she could fight off so many opponents in her weakened state. The only other way was for her to kill as many as she could before she was forced to succumb to _Dhi'ki-de,_ the Long Sleep. She closed her eyes, whispered a last goodbye to her brothers and mate and a final prayer to the gods to make her death swift and honorable. Then she took her spear from its sling on her hip and activated it with a small flick of her wrist, reveling in the feeling of its familiar weight against her palm. If these were to be her last moments, then at least she would be doing what she was born to do: fighting.

She turned and met her pursuers. The nearest fired two syringe-like pellets at her and missed, she answered with and upward stab to the male's abdomen. Removing her spear with a sucking noise, she spun into the next and sliced him deeply from clavicle to hip. The next managed to hit her with a needle-pellet. She turned on him, causing him to start. He lost his balance and fell backward, and with no thought, she sank her spear into his chest. She felt another needle-pellet sink into the skin of her back. With a roar, she extended her wrist blades and caught the shooter in the face, slicing through his skull, vertebrae, and severing one of his eyeballs from its nerves. More needle-pellets caught her in the stomach, neck, and legs. She felt her mind fading into a strange dark mist but that simply made her more desperate to fight. She lashed out at anyone who would come close enough her spear and sometimes charged into the ring of _oomans_ that could only just clear her shoulder, slashing and skewering everything in her path before the dark mist forced her to stumble back again.

She knew she didn't have much time before she surrendered to the dark fog that was invading her mind. Even as she pulled her spear from the head of another of her attackers she knew she could not kill all of them before she faded. She managed to rip an _ooman's_ throat from his body with her bare hands before she stumbled and sank to her knees. She heard the shooters shouting in their strange language and couldn't latch onto the translation her mask gave her. She looked up at the sky, for what she didn't know, maybe a last far away glimpse of the home world or her brother fleeing in the ship, but all she saw was small white dots. Quivering, tiny and cold.

She felt a last emotion rise within her; hatred, boiling and fiery. She hated the stars for being so small and making her feel small and helpless. She was an honored warrior of the Yautja! She was not yet a blooded warrior but she was certainly not helpless and she was not small! As if to prove herself, she lashed out one last time at an _ooman_ whom had mistaken her weariness for surrender. Her hand shot out and buried itself up to her wrist in his chest cavity. With little effort she found his hyper-active heartbeat. She closed a tight fist around the muscle and yanked. With a loud squelching rip and a strangled cry from its owner, the heart came free. Holding it above her head, she opened her mouth and roared her last defiance at the stars. With that she faded and fell forward the heart rolling forward to rest on the dried leaves.

Behind her, one of the surviving shooters put his lips to the radio and spoke. "Corporal Hughes to Secretary Moretz."

"Go ahead, Corporal."

"Target acquired. I repeat the target has been acquired."

"Very good, Corporal. How many survived?" The corporal turned counted his men as they shouted their presence.

"Only twenty-five, Madam Secretary, including the target."

"Regrettable but I am glad we finally have a surviving specimen." The corporal stepped over the bodies of his fallen and dismembered comrades on his way to the body of their target. He knelt over it, finger on the trigger, and lifted its head by its dreadlocked hair. With no small effort and the help of two of his comrades, he managed to flip its body over onto its back and cautiously removed its mask. What he saw surprised him so much that he nearly dropped the mask.

"Uh…Madam Secretary? We might have a problem."

"What is that Corporal?

"The target is a human…I think. I repeat target strongly resembles a human female."

"Interesting, Corporal. Bring her back to the facility please." Although he was quite confused, he was under orders and one did not simply argue with the Secretary of Defense. Not if they wanted to keep their job, and Sam Hughes liked his job.

"Yes, Madam Secretary."

"Corporal, the scientists want to know how much tranquilizer was used to sedate the target." She sounded exasperated which Hughes could understand. He didn't care for scientists either. He scanned the vast expanse of Day-Glo tufts of fuzz that protruded from the female's body and realized for the first time how much they had in fact used against her.

"Enough for a few bull elephants would be my guess, Madam Secretary."

"Impressive, Corporal. See you in Colorado shortly."

"Ten-four, Madam Secretary. Over and out."


	2. Chapter 2

**2 days later… Black Hawk, Colorado**

Kelly O'Brian sat at her dining room table, a steaming cup of coffee cooling between her hands. She looked again at the clock on the stove seeing that a mere five minutes had passed since she had last checked. Two years ago she wouldn't have thought it strange that she was sitting up at three in the morning unable to sleep. Two years ago there would have been a rational explanation for her restlessness like jet lag. But now nothing in her life was rational. Her husband had been killed by some kind of extra-terrestrial being; her hometown had been overrun by more of the things, the government had authorized a nuclear strike on the town and relocated her and Molly here; a small apartment in the even smaller town of Black Hawk. They had said it would be far enough away from ground zero, but close enough to feel like home for them. Of course the government would say something like that. She scoffed to herself. Stupid government, and stupid whatever-things-they-were that had caused her to lose her home, they could both burn in hell for all she cared.

"Mom?" She turned to see Molly, her eleven-year-old, sleepy-eyed, and bed-headed daughter standing in the hallway that led to their respective bedrooms. She had been so wrapped up in her anger that she hadn't heard her daughter get out of bed.

"Hi, honey." She said, smiling thinly. She patted the chair beside her and Molly sat down. "Another nightmare?" she asked tenderly. Ever since the night they had escaped Gunnison, Molly had been having nightmares about the things that had overrun their home, that and the people. Her nightmares sometimes centered on the people who had died that night; her father, the man in the cemetery, Jesse, the sheriff, and everyone else taken out by the nuclear blast. She said she saw blood too, lots of blood. That's when she would usually dissolve into a quaking, sobbing lump in her mother's lap, while Kelly did everything she knew how to console her daughter. This time though, Molly only nodded and said nothing else.

"I'm sorry, sweetie." Kelly soothed as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

"I miss Daddy." Molly said bluntly as her lip quivered. Kelly nodded, understanding the feeling all too well.

"I do too, honey. I miss him a lot."

"I know." Molly looked up at her mother with big round eyes. "You loved Daddy didn't you, Mom?" Kelly nodded, smiling.

"I still do." Her daughter nodded and went back to staring into empty space. For a long while they just sat beside each other, Kelly soothingly stroking Molly's hair. After a while of this, Kelly spoke again.

"I could use some hot chocolate. How about you?" Molly smiled a little and nodded. She rose and went around to the kitchen with Molly following close behind her. Together they mixed their cocoa and sugar and boiling water into two mugs. Kelly even opened a bag of marshmallows and plopped a few into each mug. Smiling they returned to the dining room and talked about everything except the events of two years ago or Molly's nightmare. They then lapsed into a comfortable silence and sipped their hot chocolate. Then Molly spoke.

"Mom, why did they do it? Why did the aliens kill Daddy?" Kelly sighed. She had asked herself the same question hundreds if not thousands of times over and still couldn't find the answer that made sense and made her feel better about her late husband's death. Was it territorial? Was it hungry? Was it just killing to kill? While some of these made sense, none placated her. She had asked the government the same questions and they had simply stated that they were looking into it. Which she knew was a load of same exact government that had a hand in every aspect of her life. Shaking her head she looked back at her daughter.

"I don't know sweetie."

"I hate them." Kelly started at the anger in Molly's voice. But before she could voice her concern about it, her cellphone rang, startling them both. Shaking it off, Kelly rose and flipped the phone open.

"O'Brian."

"Kelly? Oh, thank God!" exclaimed a male voice over the phone.

"Dallas? What are you doing calling at," she checked the stove clock again. "Four thirty in the morning?"

"Just listen to me Kelly. Some government goons have just showed up at mine and Ricky's place. They're telling us to pack an overnight bag. I think it has to do with Gunnison-" The phone cut off sharply and Kelly was left staring dumbly at the blank screen. Her mind immediately came up with a worst-case scenario.

"Molly, I need you to go to your room and get your emergency pack." Although there was a worried look in her eyes, she did as she was instructed. Kelly too went back to her own room and pulled a large duffle bag from under the bed. The bag was filled with changes of clothes, passports for herself and Molly, a total of 3,000 dollars in cash, and her handgun. She pulled on a pair of shoes and a sweatshirt and collected Molly from the threshold of her bedroom door. She ran for the door but the moment her hand was on the knob of their front door, there was a loud knock that made her recoil her hand and step back.

"Miss O'Brian! Corporal Hughes, United States Army. Sorry to wake you at this hour." Kelly motioned for Molly to remain quiet as she peered through the peephole at the man dressed in the navy dress uniform that made his finely combed, pale blonde hair stand out ridiculously in the darkness, and was decked out with all the metal to signify his rank. Kelly wasn't impressed. Anyone could go online and replicate Corporal's badges.

"Let me see some credentials, Corporal." She said rather sharply through the door. She saw the man smile and roll his blue eyes at someone to his right and pulled out a badge case and brandished it in front of the peephole. It only looked legitimate enough for Kelly to begrudgingly open the door a crack and snap. "My title and rank haven't been changed either, Corporal. It's still Mrs. O'Brian or Lieutenant." At that, the Corporal's eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead as he nodded in acknowledgement of her blunt request.

"Of course _Lieutenant_." He said with extra emphasis on the title. He spotted their duffle bags. "Going somewhere?" Kelly stuck her chin out, a pose that reeked of defiance.

"Yes, my sister just called to tell me my mother's had a stroke. We're going to the hospital in Aurora." Hughes nodded and offered what he probably thought looked like a sympathetic smile but just looked to Kelly like he had failed acting class.

"While I am sorry for your mother's condition, I must insist that you accompany us." Kelly peered around Hughes to see a guard of some sort, complete with bulletproof vest and large automatic rifle. She knew both from her own experience and by simply looking at the guard that he knew how to use the assault rifle and that he wouldn't hesitate to fire if ordered. She never had, so why should he?

"I'm afraid that is not possible." She stated simply. "My sister is expecting us before noon." Hughes shook his head very slowly, a very unfriendly grin emerging across his face.

"Well then it appears that we are at an impasse. However," he leaned in conspiratorially. "I believe we have an unfair advantage over you." Kelly scowled. She knew he was right but that didn't mean she was giving into his games that easily.

"And what might that advantage be?" she snarled. He just grinned even wider but said nothing. Suddenly, Molly looked up at Hughes and spoke in a tired voice.

"Is this about the thing that killed my daddy?" Hughes looked down at her as if he were only just noticing that she even existed and his grin dulled into an attempt at a sincere smile. He knelt down so he was eye level with Molly.

"We think so." He patted her head but she slapped his hand away and then looked up at her mother with her jaw set. Her eyes held Kelly's with an intensity she had never seen in anyone her age. It scared her.

"I want to go."

**Washington D.C.**

Alexa Woods groaned and sat up in her bed. The alarm clock on the bedside table read six-thirty. She put her head in her hands as she felt another headache coming on. It was the dreams again. Every night for the past two years she had been having the same kinds of dreams about cold wastelands and death. Sometimes the dead and dying were familiar faces and sometimes they were complete strangers but they were always the same; ice and blood. Every morning was like waking up with brain freeze.

She sighed as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and acquiesced to the fact that it would be another long day for her. She made her way down the hall to the kitchen to make coffee. On the counter were several file folders, some were filled to bursting and others were so thin it could be argued that there was nothing in them. She picked up the nearest one, flipped the cover open and began reading while the sounds of the coffee pot filled her kitchen.

She had read the words in the debriefing file over and over again for two years in a vain attempt to understand them.

_Sebastian De Rosa- Contract archaeologist. Missing in the field. Presumed dead._

_Charles Bishop Weyland- CEO: Weyland Industries. Heart attack. Dead._

_Grey Miller- Biochemical engineer. Lab explosion. Dead._

She shook her head and tossed the folder back down onto the counter and picked up the thickest one which was labeled 'sightings'. She opened it and flipped through, only taking in the dates, some of which she had investigated thoroughly such as Val Verde 1987, Los Angeles 1997, Bouvetøya 2004, and Gunnison 2004. Others she was not as familiar with like Siberia 1990, and New York City 1989. No matter the year, town or number of people involved, it seemed that there were never any more than five survivors. She flipped back to the section on Bouvetøya just for kicks. The section contained the story she had told the government, written in her own handwriting as well as the story the government had told the news media about the deaths of the almost thirty-five people on the Weyland Expedition. There was also a photograph of her face, slightly turned so the mark was clearly visible. Alexa's hand went immediately to the actual mark on her face. Two mere pit lines created by powerful acid but something else in meaning entirely. She closed her eyes to fight the onslaught of tears that always came with thinking about her short time on Bouvetøya, but to her surprise none came.

The buzzer on the coffee pot trilled a high note to let her know her coffee was done and sending her heart into a frenzy of wild flutters. Whoever it was that created the loud, obnoxious tone should have been condemned to hell by early risers everywhere. The noise pierced her eardrums and left her feeling numb, aside from the headache that had only been increased by the damned noise. Stalking over to the cupboard, she was pulling out her favorite mug- blue with a picture of Mt. Rainer emblazoned on its side- when the doorbell to her apartment rang causing her to jump and drop her mug, which promptly shattered upon meeting the tile of her kitchen floor.

Swearing under her breath, she turned and yanked the pants she had worn yesterday off the back of one of her chairs and struggled into them on her way to the door. She pressed the intercom button and greeted the bell ringer in the politest way she knew how.

"Who is this? What do you want?" Static crackled across the line then promptly cut off as the visitor pressed the button allowing them to speak.

"I take it you are not a morning person Miss Woods." Yeah you could say that, she thought with a roll of her eyes. "I have some important information to discuss with you, may I come in?"

"No, not until you have identified yourself." It came out a little harsh but what the hell did she care? She wasn't exactly in the mood to have a stranger come into her home unannounced. There was a chuckle when whoever-it-was pushed the button again.

"Of course, my name is Richard Cunningham; I work for the Department of Defense under Secretary Moretz."

"Look, I'm sure you're a great guy and all, but I really do need a little more than your good word on the matter." 'Yeah, you made me break my favorite coffee mug, you aren't getting off that easy' she thought. There was a rustling outside her door and she slid open the peephole cover to see a photo identification card being shoved right up to the door. When it was removed, she found it was indeed an ID for the man standing outside her door in a long overcoat. Shrugging to herself, she opened the door for him.

"Your presence has been requested in Colorado." He said once he was through the door. Apparently it was snowing or raining outside because there were small droplets of water running down his face. He looked government-like she thought, with a shaven face and short brown hair. "I'll give you a few minutes to pack and shall be waiting for you downstairs. You'll receive the rest of the details en route." Lex inclined her head, still suspicious but her interest had been piqued. Her hand went subconsciously to her cheek and her eyes darted back to the kitchen and the stack of folders scattered there. She looked back at Cunningham.

"Is this about what I think it's about?" He smiled

"I wouldn't presume to know what you were thinking about, Miss Woods, but I believe I can say with fair certainty that yes, this is exactly about what you're thinking about."

"Give me five minutes." She said simply. Cunningham nodded and went to wait in the apartment complex lobby.

**Military Compound, Location: Colorado**

Secretary of Defense Ashley Moretz strode through the halls of the compound at a brisk pace. Her face was set in a look of single-minded determination-eyes narrowed, lips tightened into a straight line- and when she passed, people leapt out of her way. She was angry, no, she was livid. Completely and totally consumed by rage. These idiots should know better by now that she was in charge here. Just because the majority of the compound's workers were contracted by Yutani Corp did not mean that this wasn't a military installation. This was her party and she got to call the shots.

She turned a corner and came to a pair of clear, sliding doors. The access pad prompted her for her identification card and she presented it stiffly. It then asked for a conformational retinal scan, which she of course complied with but while tapping her expensive high-heeled shoes on the white tile. The access pad thanked her for her cooperation and the doors opened with a soft hiss. Inside were hundreds of people bustling around in white lab coats. _'Scientists'_ she thought with a shudder. Her father had been a scientist and that was the reason her mother had left him. She strongly disliked scientists too; like mother like daughter they always say. Maybe it was their lack of true knowledge of how the world was run, or maybe it was their consistent, obnoxious optimism about such-and-such breakthrough in medicine or physics, hell, maybe she just had daddy issues; any way you sliced it, she disliked every single one of them. And now she was about to give one of them a piece of her mind.

"Dr. Pearce!" she shouted above the din in the room, which immediately fell silent at the sound of her shrilly, raised voice. The scientist she was looking for picked his head up from some papers he had been studying intently at a desk across the room. He took a deep breath, removed his glasses- a habit he picked up from being constantly bullied on the playground in elementary school- and reluctantly stood to face the wrath of Secretary Moretz.

"Yes, Madam Secretary. I'm over here. No need to shout. " Without hesitation, Moretz began her trek to where Dr. Pearce stood with his hands in his pockets. Drawing up every inch of her five foot eight stature, she looked Pearce in the eye and began her tirade.

"You gave the subject more sedative without notifying me." Pearce nodded not knowing why this was such a problem for the Secretary. He would never understand people in positions of power, or women. The Secretary combined those two things into one person. It wasn't that he was sexist, not by any stretch of the imagination, he just didn't get women and he never would. He had resigned himself to this fact a long time ago. Maybe that was why he wasn't married.

"Yes, Madam Secretary, I did. We were doing x-rays and she was showing signs of consciousness. I needed her to stay under just a little longer. I don't want a creature that pulled a man's heart out of his chest with its bare hands doing the same to my staff." He rationally explained in a calm tone that he normally used with scared patients back at the pediatric trauma center in the town he called home. Apparently it didn't work very well on pissed off Defense Secretaries, for Moretz's voice raised a couple of octaves when she spoke next.

"I don't care about your stupid science projects, Pearce! I need to know everything that goes on in here! Washington is expecting the chain of command to be followed and unless you are me, you report to me." Realizing that she was drawing stares from the other occupants of the room, she took a deep breath to calm herself down. Pearce took this time to speak again in the same soothing voice.

"I apologize, Madam Secretary. If there is any change in the subject's condition, you will be the first one I call for." Moretz narrowed her eyes again, and hissed at him.

"I better be, Doctor, or there will be hell to pay I can promise you that." With that, Moretz turned on her heel and stalked out of the laboratory. Behind her though, Pearce muttered under his breath.

"Bet you'd know all about hell wouldn't you, Madam Secretary?" he turned and clapped his hands together, addressing his staff. "You heard the lady, let's get some results in here." He took a clipboard from his desk and strode over to a long metal table where a dark-skinned humanoid lay supine with its wrists and ankles strapped down to the hard metal surface. It did not stir when Pearce approached, the sedative in its bloodstream keeping it locked in a docile coma. Flipping up a sheet on the clipboard, Pearce put his pencil to the paper, ready to record.

"So," he began, "How are you today my dear?"

**So sorry about the super-duper fast update but I tend to get ahead of myself when uploading chapters and felt this one needed a little more intro of our characters. Big thank you to CandyCoatedJunk for pointing out my characters needed a little more personality. Anyway; next chapter there's going to be some major Yautja angst so best start preparing now :) Cheers!**


	3. Chapter 3

Twin suns beat down a dry, suffocating heat onto the hard-packed desert plain. Heat waves rippled across the horizon, making it look unsteady and otherworldly. There was no sound between the waves of thick air, no discernible landmarks aside from the few pillars of hardened rock that had once been shifting sand. In the midst of this bleak, desolate, radioactive wasteland stood a lone figure, dark and shifting with the heat waves. She did not move, nor dared to breathe. Then after a few moments that that began to feel like hours, she relaxed her shoulders and knelt to the dry ground. Laying her palm flat against the dust, she brushed it over the small variations that had taken hundreds of years to form in an environment that received no wind or rain. Suddenly a small, almost invisible divot in the dusty ground caught her attention. Using long, black, claw-like nails, she traced the outline of the rut in the dust. This was it; this was what she was looking for. Pride swelled in her chest but was promptly beaten down by reality. She didn't have any reason to feel pride yet; she did not have her prize but she would. Looking up from her dirt drawing, she stared at something only she could see. Then she stood and swallowed a deep breath, setting her shoulders and returning her spear to its sling, she took off at a run across the hot plain.

For a full day, Ky'kne followed the nearly invisible trail of her quarry. She followed every single sign exactly the way her brothers had taught her. They were best when hunting together, she hunting from the highest branches of the trees and her brothers from the low branches and ground. Together they were swift, silent, and deadly. But this time she was on her own. No brothers, no camouflage, not even her old armor plates had been allowed on this hunt. All she had was her spear, her net, and the knowledge of how to kill her prize. As a concession, she had been given a small bottle of the dissolving water. It could either be used to clean up after she had caught and skinned her prize or to create a relatively quick death for herself should she fail on her hunt.

It wasn't until twinset that she came upon a fresh trail. Her heart leapt with joy at her luck. Deciding against sleep, she continued to follow the trail at a faster pace. Maybe half an hour later, she was granted a glance at her target; the vy'drach. It was perched atop a rock pillar keeping diligent watch over the desert, its giant transparent wings humming to keep the bug-like creature cool. Knowing she would not be able to scale the tower of smooth stone, Ky'kne pressed herself into the shadows of a nearby pillar and waited. The vy'drach would have to descend to the desert floor eventually to feed on the sodium chloride contained in the dust. In this way she waited, watching the giant beast. She did not know how long she waited nor did she care, this hunt was too important for her to risk it all by being impatient

The twin suns had set long ago when the vy'drach finally hefted its huge body off the pillar and fell to the desert floor with a heavy thud. It slowly looked around, scanning the desert for threats. Its eyes passed over Ky'kne's hiding spot and paused. She could not move, could not breathe while the giant mirrored eyes rested on her. Finally it moved on and focused its attention on one spot of ground. A great, long proboscis shot out of the creature's invisible mouth and began lapping at the desert floor. Ky'kne could feel the impacts ripple the dusty ground beneath her feet and knew her time had come. Slowly she peeled herself away from the shadows and approached the vy'drach. She was silent, staying on the balls of her feet and taking slow deliberate steps. It took a long time to reach a suitable distance but again, too much was resting on this hunt and she was determined to emerge from this with her prize in tow.

Assured that her quarry was preoccupied with its meal, Ky'kne slid her spear from its sling and flicked her wrist to extend it. It obeyed with the soft hiss of metal on metal a sound that would have been overlooked or barely noticed in the cities, but here was more akin to a roar. The _vy'drach_ whirled on her and let off a series of deep, angry clicks. Throwing caution to the wind- if there had been any- Ky'kne charged the beast, who lashed out with its long, sharpened forelegs. It was faster than she had anticipated but she managed to dodge the first wave of attacks, here and there managing to land a slice or stab with her spear. She had to get to the underbelly, the only part of the creature that was not shielded by massively thick armor plates. Then she could just rip it open from head to tail.

As she had this thought a massive leg made hard contact with her torso, knocking her backward and causing her to tumble over herself on the dusty ground. She scrambled to her feet and found her spear had been knocked from her hands and it lay a fair distance behind her. She turned and saw the creature preparing to charge. She took to a crouch and began stepping backward to where her spear lay. The _vy'drach_ tossed its massive head around while a piercing screech emanated from its mouth opening and tore through the desert air. At this, she turned and sprinted to the spot where her weapon had fallen and retracted itself. She could feel the creature behind her coming at her at a run with its sharp front legs piercing the grit at a faster pace than the beat of her erratic heart. She was so close though, only a few more steps and she'd have her weapon. She dived for it, which sent her into a roll and caused her to land on her back. The creature was looming over her now, rearing on its two sets of back legs. The pointed ends of the front legs collided with the ground around Ky'kne's head while she lashed out with the ends of her retracted spear. One managed to clip her between the base of her neck and her shoulder and another caught her just above her hip, spilling her orange blood. She roared, which seemed to confuse the creature for a moment and it paused its assault. That was all she needed. Extending her spear again, she sliced in an upward arc, severing the end of one of the creature's legs. It screeched and retreated back a small way, stumbling on the stump of its leg. Ky'kne rolled back onto her feet and crouched, observing her quarry.

The ground between them was pockmarked and bloody. Both of them were badly wounded and both understood that only one was going to survive this skirmish. Breathing deeply, Ky'kne searched her spirit for the strength to accept the embrace of death should this be her time. A feeling of tranquility settled itself into her core, tuning out the pain of her injuries and lending new strength to her muscles. Her mouth curled into a grin and a low growl rumbled in her throat. Across the bloodied, pockmarked ground, the _vy'drach_ screeched again and charged. Ky'kne charged as well, intent on meeting death head-on. The shrieks filled the desert with eerie echoes before falling back into oppressive silence.

**Present**

Failure. Disgrace. Shame. These were the thoughts that filled his head and hung heavy on his shoulders. His pride felt the sting of these thoughts worse than any blow he'd ever taken, any gash he'd ever received, or even the time his sister had accidently impaled his arm with her spear when she was still clumsy with the weapon. That had not remotely fazed him more than the crushing reality of his failure. His failure was letting his sister face a dishonorable death without being there to die with her, and it was his failure that he was unable to blood himself and prove himself a true Yautja warrior. He should be dead; he deserved to die. Death would be better than suffocating on the knowledge of your failure for the rest of your life. It must be.

"_Mei'hswei_," Came a growl from above the place where he knelt. "Rise." He did so and reluctantly raised his head.

A'dmu looked at his three brothers that had taken positions in front of him in a triangular formation. Only two were blood brothers, Kwi'jana and L'gikai, the other was his sister's mate, Bor'daj, who by law of the Clan had been adopted into their family after he had chosen Ky'kne as his mate, and for some reason, A'dmu was having trouble looking him in the eye. He felt a crushing shame standing among them all for they were fulfilled blooded warriors and he was a shameful failure at both blooding himself and defending his sister. He deserved to die by any means most painful. He looked to his eldest brother who clicked his mandibles in careful contemplation.

"You say our sister knew the risks of going against so many of the _oomans_?" Kwi'jana growled. "And that she did so as a last resort to save you and the ship?" A'dmu ducked his head in acknowledgement.

"_Sei'i_, brother, she knew the risks." To his right, L'gikai clicked without emotion.

"Then she has been bestowed an _yin'tekai thei-de_ by the gods." A'dmu flared his mandibles at his second oldest brother in a brief declaration of annoyance, before ducking his head, once again reminded of his failure and his rank below his brothers.

"_H'ko_, she was not_. _No matter her sacrifice, the _oomans_ have tainted it. They inflicted as many injuries as they could upon her then struck when she was weakest. This has tainted forever her passing into the _bhu'ja agaj'ya._" Beside him, A'dmu felt Bor'daj grow tense. He could practically feel the large male's scalp tighten but he remained deathly silent. None of his brothers spoke for a long moment, mulling over what he had just relayed to them with mandibles clicking.

Finally, Kwi'jana spoke. "We will return to _N'ithya_ to avenge the honor of our sister," he said with more than a note of finality and then with a pointed look at Bor'daj he inclined his head in a bow of sorts. A'dmu nodded his acquiescence with L'gikai and Bor'daj. "Tomorrow we will inform the Clan Leader of our decision. He will not like it." He warned.

"What he says matters not." came the first utterance from the Yautja on A'dmu's left. Since A'dmu had arrived without Ky'kne, the older male's presence was like a hard wall. He had not spoken for several hours, instead opting to stand still, not speaking, not blinking, and sometimes not breathing. For the better part of a day, Bor'daj had been little more than a statue. A'dmu turned to look at the older male and warbled his confusion. Bor'daj continued. "I_ will_ return to the _ooman_ planet and I _will_ claim the heads of those that killed my mate as my trophies no matter the leader's decision. And I will not take another mate until I have avenged the death of my last." And with that he turned and began stalking out of the room.

"You think any of us feel differently, brother?" growled L'gikai, whose shoulders were set determinedly forward and whose mandibles flared angrily. Everything about him screamed a challenge. "Perhaps you forget you are among your mate's blood here. You have little more right to vengeance than an outsider." In answer, Bor'daj turned and planted his feet in a defensive stance, one he only used when facing the most formidable of prey, he could not be moved by anything less than L'gikai's heaviest attacks. He flared his own mandibles and roared at L'gikai.

"I only think,_ mei'hswei_, that the pathetic _oomans_ have robbed me of my first chance of spreading my seed. They have dishonored a great hunter and the lineage she could have produced. And I will have vengeance." At this blunt statement, A'dmu looked to his brothers, confused. Had she never told him? To them it had been painfully obvious during her first mating trials. He saw equal confusion in the eyes of his brothers. Kwi'jana stepped toward Bor'daj slowly and deliberately, like he was stalking a ferocious beast.

"_Mei'hswei_, did Ky'kne never tell you? Have you not figured it out for yourself?" The male's eyes darted between each of his new brothers, and that was all the answer they needed. She had not told him. A'dmu looked at the ground when Kwi'jana spoke again. "Our sister cannot bear newbloods."

**Hey guys! I must apologize for the shorter chapter but any other way I wrote it just felt wrong, ya know? Hope you enjoyed it anyway. Ummm… oh yeah! Here's a glossary of Yautja words just in case you want it.**

**Mei'hswei: **Brother**, Yin'tekai Thei-de: **Honored death,** Bhu'ja Agaj'ya: **Spirit Realm**, Sei'i: **Yes**, H'ko: **No

**Also; the Mating Trials is just something I made up. It is when young female Yaut'ja go to what is essentially a gynecologist to have predictions made about how well they will bear children. Poor Ky'kne failed hers (obviously) therefore she cannot bear her mate a child. Hope to see you back for the next chapter!**


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